Nothing more; no reference to the private matter.
Aaron breathed more freely.
He responded to Dr. Spenlove's advances, and the gentlemen parted friends.
Rose Moss was in the room during the proceedings, and her fair young face beamed with pride; it was her lover's father who was thus honored, and she felt that she had, through Aaron Cohen's son, a share in that honor.
When the gratifying but fatiguing labors of the day were at an end, and Aaron, Rachel, and Rose were alone, Rachel said:
"I am sorry, dear Rose, that Joseph was not here to hear what was said about his father."
"It would not have made him love and honor him more," said Rose.
Rachel pressed her hand and kissed her; she had grown to love this sweet and simple girl, who seemed to have but one thought in life, her lover. Then the sightless woman asked them to describe the picture to her, and she listened in an ecstasy of happiness to their words.
"Is it not wonderful?" she said to Aaron. "A famous picture, they said, and I the principal figure. What can the painter have seen in me?"
"What all men see, my life," replied Aaron, "but what no one knows as I know."